


Hey, Yev.

by mikovich



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: F/M, GO YEV, M/M, Yev gets his words!, yay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-14
Updated: 2014-09-14
Packaged: 2018-02-17 08:02:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2302448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikovich/pseuds/mikovich
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Years after Ian and Mickey exchange their words, Yevgeny gets his. Except, his are really shitty and, with the help of Liam Gallagher, the 15 year old just might find his soulmate.<br/>--<br/>Words appear on Yev's skin- these words are the first words his soulmate will ever say to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hey, Yev.

**Author's Note:**

> The (technically) part one to this story can be read here- http://archiveofourown.org/works/1926729  
> It's the tale of Ian and Mickey getting their words.

Mickey closed his eyes, leaning his head back on the couch. He felt a small hand on his knee.

“Daddy?” Mickey opened his eyes, looking down at his son with a tired smile.

“Yeah, little buddy?”

The four year old bit his lip, looking around the room and playing with his fingers. “Can I touch it again?”

Mickey lifted his son onto his lap, letting the toddler touch his bare chest with delicate little fingers. Young Yevgeny seemed amazed. Sure, he couldn’t read yet but that didn’t take away the beauty of the words in a ring on his father’s chest. “I want ones just like yours.” He whispered, circling his finger on the words.

Mickey shook his head, a smile on his lips. “Everyone has different words, Yev. That’s the point. It makes that one person mean more than anything to you.”

Yevgeny nodded, trying to make himself magically know how to read. “What do yours say?”

Mickey was sure he’s told and explained what his words were to his son millions of times before. But the baby Milkovich was always so obsessed with people’s words- asking strangers in the supermarket what theirs were. Mickey sucked in a breath, about to let the ring of words roll from his mouth for the millionth time but someone beat him too it.

“You’re kind of perfect.” There was a pause and Mickey glanced up to see Ian Gallagher, his soulmate, standing in the passage to the living room, smiling lovingly at the pair on the couch. “I mean it.”

***

Yevgeny lifted the greasy pizza to his lips, chewing obnoxiously. He lay on the old Milkovich couch that he was pretty sure was at least 30 years older than him. His second father pushed at his legs, shoving him to move them so he could sit. He rolled his eyes and got into a normal sitting position, begrudgingly.

“How was school?” The redhead asked, taking a bite out of his own slice of pepperoni. Ian wasn’t Yev’s real dad, and trust that the 15 year old reminded him during every argument.

The front door opened before Yevgeny could answer his question. “Hey, Ian! Did you get dinner?”

Mickey Milkovich was, in fact, Yevgeny’s biological shit show of a father. Yev had heard the story where, even in a world of soul mates like the one they lived in, his dads had somehow broken up too many times to count on one hand and how Mickey had gotten a prostitute pregnant- resulting in the black haired, blue eyed delinquent that now sat next to Ian with pizza sauce dripping from his mouth.

“Yeah, Mick.” Ian said, pointing behind him to the kitchen where a pizza box lay open on the counter.

“Fuckin’ thank god.” He removed his jacket and scarf. “Your mother is driving me up the walls at work. I swear to fuck she’s doing it on purpose.” The older Milkovich directed at his son.

“Maybe because she gets pushed around by men as greasy as this damn pizza all day.” Yev said, standing and stretching his arms over his head.

Ian couldn’t believe what he saw on the pale, exposed skin under the line of Yev’s t-shirt. “Holy shit!” Ian burst forward, pulling his step-son toward him by his side.

“The fuck?” Yevgeny’s eyebrows went together in confusion but he let his father’s Gallagher lift up his shirt slightly in the back.

“Mickey come here!” Ian said excitedly, flagging over his lover.

“What? What is it?” Yevgeny said, twisting at the torso to see what his step-father was looking at with pure amusement.

“That-” Mickey started, holding in a laugh. “Is downright fucking classic.”

“What?” Yev yelled.

“Did you not know your words were coming in?” Ian said, dropping Yevgeny’s t-shirt.

Yev remembered being obsessed with words as a child. He’d listened to his dads’ meeting a bunch of times over as if it was some sort of bedtime story. All the Disney princesses words were memorized somewhere in that teenage mind of his. His feet moved so fast that he tripped on the living room rug and fell into his father’s shoulder, but then pushed off of him and into the bathroom down the hallway. He ripped his shirt over his head, contorting his body in a strange position to see the word “Hey, Yev” in large bubbly writing on one of his back dimples.

His shoulders slumped and he turned his head to see his dads leaning against the door way to the bathroom. “This is bullshit!” He choked out. “Why do you get _that_? And all I get is fucking _hey_!”

Ian stepped forward, putting a calming hand to Yev’s shoulder. “Man, it’s not that big of a de-“

Yev shoved his hand. “Not that big of a deal?” He parroted. “How the fuck am I supposed to know who it is? What great story am I supposed to tell my children? Huh? Nothing about being fucking perfect!” He motioned to Mickey. “Nothing about my other being charmingly rude!” He motioned to Ian. “I have a damn _hey_!”

“Yev-” Mickey tried to speak.

“No! I’m so fucking done! I wish I was never born- I was a damn mistake anyway!” Ian frowned at the teen’s catchphrase. It’s as if the second Yev learned the word “mistake” he equated it with himself.

Mickey pulled at his son then, holding him by his shoulders and looking in his eyes seriously. “Don’t you fucking dare, kid. Don’t do it again.”

The room seemed to chill at the memories of years before, when Mickey had walked into the same bathroom, where they stood now, to find his 13 year old lying on the tiles, blood covering the floor. He couldn’t move for a moment. He didn’t believe what he was seeing- it had felt like a dream; no, a nightmare.

“Please.” Mickey said, his eyes switching left and right. He was trying to see if his son understood him. If his son understood that Mickey himself would die if he reopened the scars on his wrists.

“Fuck off.” He mumbled, trying to get out of his father’s grasp.

“Seriously.” His dad said.

Yevgeny pushed past him and past Ian’s hand that tried to grab at his shoulder.

“I can’t believe we fucked him up, man.” He heard his father whisper to the redhead as he grabbed his coat off of the floor near the front door. Yev rolled his eyes. How could they have not fucked him up? He was the result of a rape- of a “fuck him straight” scenario. He was fucked up before he was even the size of a peanut.

He shrugged on the thick winter coat and took to the noisy night of the Chicago Southside. He thought about soul mates- about how in elementary school all the girls would whisper to each other not to talk to Yev until they were older because he was the cutest boy in the class and they hoped he was their one. No one spoke to him; not even the boys.

Ian would frown at him at the park and help him go down the slide alone. Ian would always get on his knees and ask if Yev had met any friends. The boy would just puff out his bottom lip and shake his head. Ian would nod and pull the little boy to his chest and look up at Mickey, mouthing words of needed parent-teacher conferences.

Yev hunched against the cold, his hands dug into his jacket pockets and his eyes screwed shut at the memory. The street lights flickered above him just to remind him how shitty where he lived was and how shitty his life all together was.

He rounded a corner, onto a familiar street. As he grew older, girls started to realize how dumb they’d been in their younger years. But by then Yev had taken on his father’s left behind Milkovich reputation; setting textbooks a flame in class at the age of 11, throwing chairs through the windows at 12 and spray painting death threats to students and staff on lockers at the age of 13. Little did everyone know that the angry boy Yev had become was utterly deadly… to himself.

His breath puffed out white, rolling off his lips. He pushed open the back door to the Gallagher home and was met by Fiona.

“Yevgeny! Hey there! Liam’s upstairs.”

He nodded and took the stairs two at a time.

“Man.” Yev sighed out, falling onto his step-dad’s old bed.

Liam jumped down from the old, rickety bunk-bed. “Sup, dude?”

“My dads are driving me fucking ballistic.”

“Ian _is_ a pain in the ass.” Liam agreed, taking out a joint and sitting on the floor next to Yev. He lit it and took a drag. Little did the teens know that they were merely a mirror image of Lip and Ian years before them.

Yev squeezed his eyes shut, preparing his next words like they weighed heavily on his tongue. “I-” He cleared his throat and took the blunt that was stretched backwards to him. “I got my words.”

Liam whipped his head to the side. “No shit! Fo’ real?”

“ _Fo’ real_!” Yev mocked with a laugh, letting smoke pour from his pink lips that were identical to his father’s.

“Fuck they say?”

Yev rolled his eyes. “ _Hey, Yev._ ”

Liam fell sideways onto the messy Gallagher floor; Fiona called up the stairs asking what was wrong because his laughter was so manic.

“Yeah, yeah. Fuck off, alright..”

“I’m sorry but what the _fuck_ , dude? Like, you were so excited about this soulmate shit!” Liam clasped his hands together dramatically, shaking them up at the ceiling. “That’s a cruel joke there, God.”

“Tell me about it.” Yev mumbled, taking another drag and staring up at the Gallagher ceiling.

This soulmate shit sucks.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! The second part will be posted soon! Btw, this was super thrown together because I just really wanted Yev to get his words.. so.. yeah. GO YEV.  
> Comment if you pickin' up what I'm throwin' down.


End file.
